


maybe we will wake up singing

by Deanon



Series: dumb boys [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M, Pining, emotional immaturity, gutter's a disaster that runs away from his feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 02:08:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19416295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deanon/pseuds/Deanon
Summary: it is nothing like I thought it would be, and closer to what I meant.two boys learn what it means to come home.





	maybe we will wake up singing

**Author's Note:**

> happy birthday ashley

In the end, Teddy lasted almost six months, and when it did happen, it was 3 am. Sweat coated his skin and moans scraped his throat raw, and he was holding Gutter’s hips hard enough to feel the bruises forming under his hands when he gasped, “Love you - Gutter, I love - ”

Felt Gutter tense under his hands as the bottom fell out of his stomach.

He woke up with the sun, and Gutter was gone.

That wasn’t a surprise. Not really.

The keys on the kitchen counter were, though.

* * *

He made two cups of coffee that morning, anyways. It was stupidly optimistic, but it helped him swallow down the ache sitting at the back of his throat. He sipped the coffee, and watched the angle that the sun made against the west wall. He watched it shift down until it hit the top of the TV. He finished the coffee, and then drank half the other one. He poured the cold coffee down the sink.

He leaned back in his chair. Texted a few people. Looked up at the ceiling and pressed his fists into his eyes.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

He had to do - something. 

He reached down, unlocked his phone, pulled up the text conversation he’d had with Gutter the night before.

> _I’m downstairs._

_what, no pebbles at the window?_

> _You live on the 7th floor_

_so your arm isnt good enough_

_is what youre telling me_

_HOLY SHIT WAS THAT YOU_

_on my way down jesus_

Teddy’s mouth twitched. It hadn’t been him, but Gutter’d spent the night making baseball jokes and punching Teddy’s arm, and he’d been laughing too hard to even object when Teddy had picked him up.

And then moaning too much, and, hell.

He typed, _I’m s_ , and then backspaced. Pressed his thumb to the screen.

The thing was, he wasn’t sorry. He wasn’t sorry, and he wasn’t going to take it back. Gutter deserved at least that much honesty, even if he didn’t want it. Even if he ran away from it.

After another moment, he typed,

_I made coffee._

sent it before he could change his mind, got up, and grabbed his wallet and Gutter’s keys on the way out the door.

* * *

“Hey Theodore,” Gutter’s coworker called, as soon as he walked in. It was late enough in the morning that there was no line, just a couple people working at tables in the corner. “I heard from Gutter about the emergency, is he ok?”

Teddy stopped, tried to think fast. This wasn’t his strength- Gutter was the fast-talker. But he hadn’t gotten a text back, or so much as a _note_ this morning, or any time. He took another look at her, and had to swallow hard. She looked like Gutter’s type, insofar as he was aware that Gutter _had_ a type - pink hair, sharp eyes, a manner that was almost aggressively casual as she leaned on the counter.

Was she - ?

He pushed it back.

“He told you?” He said instead.

“Nothing specific,” She said. “Just a single text this morning, asking if I could pick up his shifts for a couple days, something something family emergency. Wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“Ah,” Teddy said. Well, that meant - he definitely wasn’t planning on coming back right away, then.

But maybe was planning on coming back in general.

With a jolt, he realized he was pressing his fists to his eyes again. He lowered his hands. “Right. Yeah. He’s - “

“Hey,” she said, soft. “Don’t - you don’t have to tell me. It’s chill.”

“....Right,” Teddy said finally. “Thanks.”

She was nice. He couldn’t blame Gutter, if he liked her. Even if he felt sick in the back of his throat, even if he hated to look at her.

“I’m down here to take care of stuff, while he - deals with things,” Teddy said finally. “I didn’t know he texted - I was going to ask if you,” _had seen him_ , “knew.” The stretched truth felt wrong in his mouth, and he felt a sudden surge of irritation at Gutter for putting him in this position in the first place. Even if it turned out that Gutter had actually texted his work, he should have known that Teddy would _worry_ \- 

“Yeah,” she said. “Well - um - d’you want my number? Our boss is terrifying, I don’t think you want his, but if you need to let me know anything - about - “

“Sure,” Teddy said. He pulled out his phone, opened it, and then glanced at her nametag to fill in, _Ace_. He handed her his phone and then looked around the shop while she entered it in. It was industrial, next to an art school and as much studio as it was a cafe.

“Here,” Ace said, passing his phone back. “I should - stop chatting before my boss catches on, I guess. You want a coffee? On the house, we’ve got a whole stack of cups that were written off stock because of some syrup on the sides. Might be a little sticky, but, whatever.”

He walked out of the shop with a coffee that was so strong it instantly cleared his head, and a text sent from his phone to _Ace_ that read _hello, person I will call if I need anything or I’m telling Z that there’s no family emergency._

He sent a follow-up text, 

> _There is an emergency._

_being an idiot isn’t an emergency._

Teddy shoved his phone back into his pocket, because he couldn’t argue with that.

* * *

He spent the day wandering the city that Gutter lived in, aimless but more content than he would be if he sat around in the apartment. He wondered, briefly, about whether Gutter would come back to the apartment and find Teddy and the keys gone.

The feeling of vindictive pleasure that thought brought him was - uncomfortable, so he didn’t think about it anymore.

Instead, he found himself enjoying the city in the way he hadn’t had the chance to when every time he went out was with Gutter. He found himself helping some people lift furniture up the stairs into an apartment, wandering into a gallery of Asian pottery to escape the midday heat, getting lunch at a Middle-Eastern cafe that seemed to have been squeezed between two buildings until it was almost too narrow to enter. The food was incredible.

He was just considering going back to the apartment to do - something, maybe hope that Gutter would be sitting on the doorstep, when he got a text from Ace again.

_hey gut’s usually the one who helps me with projects but_

_since he’s fucking dropped off the earth, if youre still around i could use an extra pair of hands_

Teddy’s mouth twitched.

> _Gut?_

_listen_

> _What kind of projects?_

_oh_

_no if you dont know im not going to tell you your face will be too good_

She sent him an address, a few blocks away from the coffee shop she and Gutter worked at.

_go around back and bang as hard as you can on the pink door_

> _Is this a gang initiation?_

_you think gutter’s cool enough to be in a gang?_

Fair enough.

By the time he made his way over, the sun was setting. From the front, the building looked a bit run-down; most of the visible windows were boarded up, and the single door in the front had a large chain and padlock securing it. They looked like rust was beginning to fuse them together.

When he emerged from the side alley to the back, he had to take a second to even locate the door. There were piles of scraps everywhere - metal, wood, at least two different dumpsters, a pile of what looked like mutilated chairs. Teddy picked his way over - the path through the junk was clearly meant for somebody (or bodies) slightly smaller than him - and banged at the door.

Past it, he could hear a mechanical whir.

He banged louder, the whir shut off, and a second later Ace pulled the door open, a pair of goggles pushed up on her head.

“Come on, get in, if the metal sets like it is the whole thing will be fucked up,” Ace said, gesturing him in and slamming the door behind him.

Once his eyes adjusted to the odd light within the building, it revealed itself as a workshop. Towers of metal were piled here and there, the hanging lamps casting odd shadows through them. Most of the bright spotlights in the room were focused on a structure that was clearly half-built. The shape didn’t immediately resolve itself into anything, but Ace rushed forward, growling “No - no, here, hold this up,” and shoving her shoulder under a drooping joint. When Teddy obligingly came over and lifted it, Ace gasped, flipped her visor back down, picked up a blowtorch, and focused it on the joint again.

For a few minutes, they fell into a pattern of that; Ace positioned him where she wanted him, like a particularly cooperative scaffold, and then bent and torched and hammered at the metals in front of her. Finally, she drew back, flipped her visor back up, and then took a few more steps back - neatly dodging a pile of scrap metal on the floor - to look it over.

“Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, ok. That’ll work. Here - “ She handed Teddy an actual bit of scaffolding, which he used to brace up the bit of still-flexible metal he was holding, and freed him to back away as well. “Thanks. Man, it’s good to have someone here who actually has upper arm muscles.”

“How _does_ Gutter usually manage to help you?” Teddy asked.

“Mm,” Ace hummed. She settled herself down onto a dirty couch in the corner, taking off the visor entirely to let her hair fall down. “Leverage, mostly. He’s just kind of there for - balance, or something.”

She finally threw a glance over at Teddy, and noticed the way he was observing her. She sighed. “All right, so maybe it mostly just keeps him out of trouble. He was going looking for it, poking around this neighborhood, answering calls for live models and delivery drivers - “

“He _what_ ,” Teddy said.

“I know, he doesn’t even _have_ a car, does he? He said he’d bike - “

“No, he does, just - “ Teddy sat down, heavily, trying not to let his mind jump ahead. “What was that first one?”

“Huh? _Oh_.” Ace threw her head back and laughed. “Oh, no, that’s - I mean, it was stupid of him to answer it, but it was through an acquaintance of Zanderleigh. Thought he’d make a good model for their life drawing class.”

Utterly unwanted images of Gutter floated to mind - sprawled naked in bed, half-wrapped in a sheet, some of the sharpness of him offset by how vulnerable he looked naked, the way Teddy could wrap an entire hand around his arm. “O - oh.”

Ace smirked at him. “Lee still has some sketches, probably, if you wanted.”

Teddy blew out a long, slow breath. “No, I’m. Hm.” He cleared his throat. “I’m okay.” He laughed. “And _you_ don't have any?” He just barely managed not to cringe at the strain in that sentence.

Ace looked at him sideways, her eyebrows arched. “I - no,” she said, slowly. “I’d - well,” she said, “I’ve seen the way he looks at you? And I kind of figured, uh, that he wouldn’t mind you seeing him naked.” She looked at him a little longer. “We’re not like that. But you _are_ , right? Like, he’s come into work with some _truly_ impressive hickies and he always just kind of let me believe those were from you - “

“No,” Teddy coughed, “I mean, yes, they were, no, we’re - they. You were. Right.”

“Right,” Ace drawled, and looked away from him. Teddy tried, hard, to push the still-lingering images of Gutter naked and sprawled out from his head.

(It wouldn’t be like that, anyways; Gutter wouldn’t be relaxed like that in front of an entire room of people. There were no pictures on his phone of Gutter vulnerable like that, because Gutter had a nasty habit of stealing his phone and Teddy had a nasty habit of setting passwords that he could guess. 

If - when - if Gutter came back and let Teddy see him like that again, maybe he’d take some anyways, because Gutter’s anger couldn’t possibly be worse than this choking feeling that he might not get to see it again.)

After a minute, Ace got up and directed him again; this time it was more with bending the metal, twisting a few things that she couldn’t seem to get a good angle on alone. When she got his help turning it over, the shape finally began to resolve itself.

“A wolf?” Teddy asked.

“Mmhmm,” Ace hummed. She tilted her head, flipped her visor down, moved his arm aside. By the time she emerged again, the conversation had well and truly passed.

* * *

Ace didn’t let him go home until much later in the evening, and by the time she did he didn’t have the energy to do much except collapse into their - Gutter’s bed, and fall asleep.

Sunday morning came, and the apartment stayed quiet and empty and still, and Teddy swallowed past the feeling in his throat, and made a decision.

And then he made another pot of coffee, and only got down one mug, and got to work.

On some level, he was aware that the fact that he could take a week off with little warning and no repercussions was one of the things that Gutter hated about their positions back home. Teddy had pointedly not mentioned Gutter’s last name to anyone here; regional politicians weren’t exactly household names two districts over, but even the chance of it ringing a bell was more than he wanted to take.

His own name, on the other hand, was one he worked hard to deserve, and therefore felt… well, only _marginal_ guilt over using for something like this.

He secured the days off, called his family, texted Giddy - he assumed she already knew Gutter had jetted off, because she had an uncanny knack for knowing where he was at all times. He wouldn’t even be _that_ surprised if she knew where he was, but she’d never told on her brother before when he didn’t want to be found, and he didn’t expect her to start now. Instead, he just let her know that he was watching the apartment for the week, don’t worry about it.

He made lunch. He checked his email. He took down the absolutely _godawful_ painting that Gutter had in his hallway, because if he was living here alone for the next week, he wasn’t living with that. 

Just as the boredom was starting to tear him apart, the buzzer rang.

He jumped so hard that his chair scraped back from the table, heart hammering, before his brain could catch up.

Gutter - wouldn’t ring the buzzer, he knew the door code. Teddy wouldn’t put it past him to pick his own lock, just to avoid having to knock and have Teddy let him in. To his knowledge, Gutter had never rung a doorbell in his life.

He stepped over to the intercom and intoned, “Who is it?”, in as neutral a tone as he could manage.

“My brother is an idiot,” Giddy’s tinny voice came back through the speaker, “and I brought rum and coke.”

* * *

She set a plastic bag and a suspiciously-shaped paper bag down on the kitchen table with two resounding _thunks_ , and then settled herself immediately on Gutter’s usual chair, legs tucked up under herself. She looked up at him, and got as far as “Get - yeah,” while Teddy took down some halfway decent tumblers that Gutter had gotten somewhere.

She didn’t say anything else until he’d knocked some ice into each of them, and she’d poured out a reasonably generous shot of rum for both of them, toasted both, and knocked hers back with a grace he _shouldn’t_ find surprising in her anymore. She took a deep breath, shut her eyes, and said, “He bought a plane ticket.”

Teddy thudded into the other kitchen chair. He and Giddy stared at each other for a moment more.

Wordlessly, he reached out and poured them both another shot.

After that one, his body was warm and a flush had risen high into Giddy’s cheeks as she explained. “Yesterday morning. Charged to the debit card on our joint account, and then a memo that said, “I’ll pay it back.”

“No idea where?” Teddy asked, mixing himself a rum and coke and considering that they should _really, definitely_ have a meal before continuing this. 

Giddy sighed, and looked back at the ceiling, and didn’t say anything for a long moment. He recognized, with a sinking sort of feeling, the same look on Giddy’s face as when Gutter had stolen Joaquin’s sword. Or when he’d fractured his ankle doing _something_ , and to this day Teddy still didn’t know what. The look on her face when she was, reluctantly, going to keep a secret.

He preempted the excuse with, “You don’t have to tell me.”

“I wasn’t going to,” Giddy said. “I was figuring - well. I don’t want to make the situation worse, but you deserve to know. He’s coming back.”

“Oh,” Teddy said.

“I don’t know when - I really don’t,” she said at the expression on Teddy’s face. “It wasn’t, like, round-trip, or anything, I’m pretty sure. Just - where he is. He wouldn’t stay there.”

“Oh,” Teddy said again, and he couldn’t even quite work out what he was feeling - relief, and frustration, and a welling up of the sadness that had settled in his throat for the past two days. He wasn’t sure which part of that made Giddy look at him with the _pity_ that she did.

“He loves this place,” Giddy said. “The way he talks about it - about you - he isn’t going to leave unless someone makes him.”

“It, um,” Teddy said, “it looks a bit like he already did.”

“He needed a break,” Giddy said. “I told you - he’s coming back.” She looked at him, considering, and he found himself thinking of how she was his sister just as much as those he had by blood. Something passed between them without words, a secret for a secret. She wouldn't say where Gutter had gone, and she wouldn't ask why. She stood up and barely swayed, which was impressive for someone who was a solid foot shorter than him and maybe half his body mass. “Come on, we’re ordering Chinese food.”

They ordered Chinese food. And then queued up some Netflix, and mixed another drink - Teddy took a shot in between, just to make things sort of even. He talked about Ace, and her statues, and the little Middle Eastern restaurant in the alley; Giddy talked about the way Gutter kept getting her to smuggle things from their house every couple weeks, and her new tae kwon do classes that she was only staying in because her instructor was “hot in a way that makes her look like she might kill me? Which I didn’t think I was into, but she’s making me reconsider.”

“You’re drunk,” Teddy said, amused.

“Not yet,” Giddy countered, and took another sip of her rum and coke. 

An hour later found them both sprawled out on the couch, Giddy’s head rested on his shoulder, her eyes a little hazy. The food had gone a long way towards sobering Teddy up, but the world was numbed around the edges, like the moments after a painkiller hit.

“The thing is,” Giddy mumbled, “the thing is, he does this? He just - leaves. Things get hard and he leaves.”

“It didn’t - “ Teddy faltered. For a second, he watched the cooking show, and leaned into the haziness of the alcohol. He said, “it’s just - love. It’s not the end of the world.”

Onscreen, somebody’s petit fours fell to pieces two minutes before the timer.

“To him, it kinda is,” Giddy pointed out.

He wanted to bring his hand up to rub at his face, but she was laying on it. “Yeah,” he mumbled, and couldn’t find any way to say, _I wish it was different with me,_ because he knew that wasn’t possible. He’d known that before he’d even known what to call what he was feeling.

“He’s hard to love,” Giddy said, words slurring together.

“No, he’s not,” Teddy murmured back. He brought a hand up and slowly petted her hair. “That’s the problem.”

“Yeah,” Giddy breathed, and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Giddy hung around for the next day, weathering the mild hangover with him in the morning and going out to local art museums in the afternoon. They stopped back in the Middle Eastern restaurant, at Giddy’s request, and ended up with free salads when the waiters recognized Teddy.

It came out, throughout the day, that Giddy didn’t know where Gutter worked; knew, in all, relatively little about his life outside of his apartment.

“I guess I just, I dunno, come and eat pizza,” she said. “Talk about whatever TV show is on and bitch about our old friends.” She took a solid bite of her kabab. “Maybe we’re - bad siblings, or something.” She didn’t sound that bothered by the idea.

“I think that’s just what he’s like,” Teddy said.

“He showed you this stuff,” Giddy pointed out.

Something rose up inside him; how he’d _asked_ about those things, burning to know more about Gutter’s life in this new place. How he’d all but had to follow Gutter to work in order to work out the actual location of the coffee shop; how only after that had Gutter started bitching, at length, about Zanderleigh. How Gutter, in his own way, asked after Teddy’s life, too. Remembered his coworkers’ names and when his mother’s birthday was.

“I think we’re just - different,” Teddy said, finally.

“Well, at least you realize it,” Giddy said, and finished her lunch while Teddy was realizing he’d barely touched his.

* * *

Giddy headed home towards the evening, and Teddy spent an evening cleaning up the apartment in the way he’d never quite dared when Gutter was there. Doing laundry, vacuuming.

It was a weird impulse that he was a little bit afraid to look at head-on; he didn’t clean his _own_ apartment like this. He didn’t even clean his parent’s house like this, when he visited, although it didn’t seem to need it like Gutter’s place did.

But he wanted to, and Gutter’s absence was a physical presence in every room, so he turned on music and made the bed and thought, sideways, in the gaps between pulling sheets out of the dryer and actually getting their clothes off the floor, about a fantasy of Gutter coming home.

About this place being home for Gutter like it was for him.

At the end of all of it, he looked at the bed, warm and made and clean.

He slept on the couch.

* * *

The next day, he woke up to a text from Ace.

_still around?_

> _Depends why you’re asking?_

_no hard manual labor_

_promise_

_its just boring as HELL on a tuesday_

> _I’ll bring a laptop._

Which was how he found himself spending the bulk of the day holed up in the corner of the coffee shop, alternately working and showing Ace cat videos. The fabled manager was there, but only appeared briefly to complain, in a deadpan voice, about latte art.

“Stupid,” he said, “total waste of skill,” and then, immediately contradicting himself, “most of it’s done on a template, anyways.”

He didn’t seem to notice the customer - if Teddy could be called that, Ace hadn’t had him pay for a drink the entire time he was there - in the corner, and the moment he went back into the back room Ace slid over and said, “Twenty bucks says I find him back there inside a week trying to design, like, a recreation of starry night on a latte.”

Teddy raised an eyebrow. “I’m not going to take a bet that I already know I’m going to lose.”

“Fine,” Ace said, “pull up some tutorials, and all the drinks you want for a week says I can do it better than him.”

Teddy wasn’t sure that was exactly how betting worked, but he said, “Deal,” and opened Youtube.

Ace experimented through the rest of the day; she certainly didn’t seem comfortable in liquid mediums like she was in metal, and she had to hastily stir through them every time Zanderleigh poked out of the back, but by the early afternoon she was managing some basic designs.

He wasn’t even paying attention when another customer came in, until Ace said, “Matt. I need your help.”

“Why?” The boy leaning on the counter was tall, dark, and skeptical. “You just make me nervous when you open with things like that.”

“Oh come _on_ ,” Ace said. “I was just thinking - like - you’ve worked in watercolors, right?”

“Um,” Matt said. And then, reluctantly, “Yes, but - “

“So, I was figuring - liquid and liquid - maybe you’d be able to do something with latte art?”

“That - is not at all how that works,” Matt said, and then sighed, already looking around the counter at the coffee Ace had been trying to sketch in.. “Is it too much to ask that I just get a coffee when I come in here?”

Teddy butted in, “That wasn’t the deal, anyways, Ace, you said - “

“Hey Matt,” Ace said, abruptly, “I don’t suppose you were coming in here looking for a model again?”

Matt looked to the side, and Teddy squinted between them, trying to figure out what exactly he’d missed there. Finally, Matt intoned, “I mean, I was _looking_ for a black coffee.” After a long pause, in which Ace made no move to get him the coffee, he relented, “And Gutter. If he was here.”

“He’s not,” Ace said, “but his,” a beat, “boyfriend is.” She cast a pointed glance over towards Teddy.

“Oh,” Matt said, and then actually _looked_ at Teddy. “ _Oh_ .” The up-down he gave him was _almost_ awkward, except Teddy had the odd feeling that he was getting used to the expression that artists gave something they _really_ wanted to draw, and it looked more like that than, well, how Gutter looked at him.

“I’m,” he said, starting out to correct their assumptions about him and Gutter, but the thought of finishing the sentence made the pot of coffee he’d already poured into himself roll anxiously. He finished, “Theodore.”

“Matthew,” the artist introduced himself.

“Teddy, Matt, Matt, Teddy,” Ace said, casually. “Let me get this out of the way now - Teddy, he wants to ask to draw you but he’s trying to figure out how to say it without it sounding like a come-on.”

“ _Ace_.”

“ _Is_ it a come-on?” Teddy said, mostly curiously.

“I haven’t even - “

“Not really,” Ace continued, as though Matt weren’t even in the room. “Matt is, amazingly enough, mostly straight.”

Matt coughed, violently, and Teddy tried _hard_ not to give his own once-over of the black skinny jeans, and beanie, and oversized black glasses. It wasn’t like _he_ looked particularly like the type to have a boyfriend, so he tried not to judge at first glance, but he had to admit that before Ace’s pronouncement he _had_ been making a few assumptions.

“So,” Matt said, finally. “Do you - uh. _Can_ I draw you?”

He looked between Ace, who was giving him a significant look over her shoulder, and Matt, who was avoiding eye contact by carefully cleaning his glasses. What the hell, he figured. He had nothing to lose.

“Sure,” Teddy said. Matt grinned, and he looked nothing like Gutter, but something in the dimple - in the way he looked away shyly - struck too close to home. “Tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Matt said. “Yeah, totally, I actually did just need coffee before getting to class - “

“Does it start at 2?” Teddy asked.

“Yeah, how’d you - “

“You’re already late,” Teddy pointed out, and got to watch Matt flail and _narrowly_ avoid spilling coffee on himself before sliding out the door and taking off down the sidewalk.

When he looked back at the counter, Ace was looking at him, considering. For a second, she looked almost - sad. “I see why he likes you,” she said, soft, and he knew instantly that she wasn’t talking about Matt.

He was saved from having to reply to that by a stream of customers coming in after class, and then Ace was off shift. She had a project to work on and didn’t invite him along, so Teddy avoided loose ends by working out, and then going running.

When his legs were aching he still felt like he had _too much_ energy, bouncing on his toes in the middle of the apartment, wishing Gutter was there to wrestle or fight or - 

His dick twitched, hard.

For a second, he just - breathed. Considered whether he could calm down, maybe keep running or, fuck, do push-ups. Something.

He thought of Gutter sitting on his back when he’d done push-ups - a thing Gutter had done exactly once, before declaring Teddy “a freak” and outright refusing to do it again - and his breath came too short, again. Gutter could pretend all he wanted but his admiration for Teddy’s arms was _obvious_ \- 

Slow, deep breaths. Teddy opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling.

On a scale of normal to stalker, he considered, how creepy was it to jack off in his maybe-boyfriend’s apartment while he wasn’t there? And if it _was_ creepy, was there a chance Gutter might be into it anyways?

In his workout pants, his dick pulsed, needy, and he leaned himself back on the couch and gave up. He brought a hand down, pressing, gentle, shocked at how sensitive he already was. Fuck, he hadn’t gotten off in days, not since - 

Since Gutter had been under him and he’d fucked him and fucked _everything_ \- 

“Fuck,” Teddy choked. Emotions rose up in throat, sharp enough to cut. “ _Fuck_.”

Around him, the silence of the apartment echoed in agreement.

By the time he raised up a hand to press, hard, against his eyes, it was obvious his original plans were off the table. For a second he just composed himself, but the ringing silence was unbearable.

He flipped on the TV, just for sound, got up, grabbed his phone, and - without allowing himself a moment to think about it - dialed Gutter’s number. Unfortunately, after that, he had _several_ seconds to think about it while it dialed, and rang, and rang. And rang.

And of course he wasn’t going to pick up. Teddy hadn’t thought he was going to, not _really_ , and so when Gutter’s voice said, “Hi!” his stomach didn’t even jump. A second later, it continued, “Haha, just kidding, this is my voicemail. Tell me what you want and I’ll - call you back? Maybe? Or text you? Why aren’t you texting me? Haha, whatever, anyways - “ _Beep._

Should he hang up? Should he - what the fuck was he doing? But he couldn’t hang up, it was already recording. It was already recording, fuck. “Hey Gutter,” Teddy said, hoarse. He cleared his throat. “Um - just - checking in. I cleaned your house, you dick.” He bit back a groan. “Fuck, I didn’t mean - I just, you left dishes in the sink.” He pressed a hand to his face. “I know that you’re making that face you make when I sound like your dad. I’m just saying - “ He had no, no fucking idea what he was saying. His heart was beating too hard. “There’s a new season of that baking show you like, and Giddy actually tries to be _nice_ to the contestants, she’s great but it’s not nearly as fun. And I - still make two cups of coffee every morning, so.”

Half a dozen things went through his head. _Get your ass back here. I love you, fuck you if you don’t want to hear it. Fuck you for leaving in the first place. I like your apartment and your friends and your sister and I think I kind of moved in. What the fuck are you doing? What are either of us doing?_

After a too-long pause, he just said, “So, see you soon,” and hung up.

* * *

Matt’s studio was a mess of a warehouse space that he shared with four other people, and it was freezing. He threw a blanket over a chair, considered it, and removed it again, mumbling something about shadows. Teddy took off his jacket, settled down into the chair. Immediately Matt shook his head.

“Nah,” he said, “no, too uncomfortable, come on, uhm - lean back, or -” Teddy moved backwards, and Matt made a noise that was borderline pained. “No, come on - here,” and finally stepped forward to just _put_ Teddy where he wanted him.

“I feel like a poseable doll, this week,” Teddy said, conversationally.

“Oh, did Ace get a hold of you too? Yeah, she’s kind of like that. There, perfect. Hold still.”

Teddy did as he was told, and Matt settled in to first sketch him. A couple other people came in - Teddy thought he might even recognize them from the time he’d spent sitting in the coffee shop - but didn’t even seem to really notice him.

“I can’t imagine Gutter sitting still for this long.”

“Y-eah, he usually doesn’t. I’ve got - gestures of him, mostly. One time he let me do gestures of his sword fighting forms, lots of, like, action shots.”

“I’d like to see them,” Teddy said, before he could stop himself. It at least came out sounding kind of casual. He tried to swallow back feeling like a creep.

“Oh - sure,” Matt said. “Right. I didn’t know he was your boyfriend. He kind of seemed like maybe he was going to have a thing with Ace? Uh, no offense. He did talk about you all of the time, he just - never mentioned. He called you his rival once.”

“He - “ Teddy said, and seized on what he wanted to say next. _He talked about me? A thing with Ace? He called me his rival? What did he say?_

The thing was, he didn’t even really have to ask. Behind his eyes, he could _vividly_ see Gutter, swinging his swords, talking about _Teddy - that’s my rival, I’m better at sword fighting than him, don’t let him tell you otherwise - but, he did show me this one move, here, stand back -_

“Is he ok?” Matt asked.

“Uh,” Teddy said. His heart thudded. “Yeah, he’s fine, he’s just dealing with - family. Stuff.”

“Oh,” Matt said. “You just - you look afraid, when you talk about him.” He looked down at this paper, and back up at Teddy, and said “Yeah - that expression - don’t move.”

Teddy swallowed, and held himself still. He couldn't feel the expression on his face, but it twisted in his stomach anyways. From this angle he couldn't see Matt's page, and he was grateful.

* * *

Matt, true to his word, gave him a few charcoal gestures of Gutter afterwards, spraying them down with some kind of sealant and sliding them into a plastic bag. He was all long limbs brandishing those ridiculous fucking swords that he had on his wall. The sparse details still somehow perfectly captured his grin as he was in motion, the lightness of his limbs when he was mid-jump.

“These are good,” Teddy said.

“...Thanks,” Matt said. “You sure he’s okay?”

“I’m sure,” Teddy said, and left before it occurred to Matt to ask a different question.

* * *

It was late Saturday afternoon, and Teddy had ignored half a dozen texts from Ace, and from his sister, and from Matt. The living room was getting dark, the sun already having slipped away from the window. It would be, Teddy knew, brighter in Gutter’s room, where the window caught the late afternoon light and spilled it over his bed - 

Teddy pressed the heel of his palms to his eyes.

“This is pathetic,” he said out loud.

He needed to start planning to go back. He needed to figure out what to do with this apartment while Gutter did - whatever he was doing. Close it down, maybe shut off the water or something. Talk to Ace about figuring out Gutter’s shifts. Catch up on the work that he somehow hadn’t done _nearly_ enough of this week, despite having almost nothing but time.

Really, he needed to stop pining. To accept this as the - breakup, or whatever, that Gutter had clearly meant it to be. Normal people, normal couples, didn’t suddenly disappear for a week with no word or warning. Normal fucking people didn’t react to a love confession by dropping all their responsibilities in their - their - _person_ ’s hands and jetting off without a word.

First thing’s first: he needed to call his work.

He pulled up the number, considered what he was going to say. _Sorry for the unexpected week off, I’ll be back in the office Monday, ignore the way I probably won’t have shaved and will be checking my phone every five minutes, I’m just -_

His phone buzzed in his hand, and the notification popped up:

_Giddy, 5:43 pm: He bought another plane ticket._

_Giddy, 5:43 pm: Just thought you should know._

He took a deep breath.

And then another.

He turned off his phone and walked out of the apartment.

* * *

He went for a walk.

Walked down the street that he and Gutter walked down all the time to go to the ice cream place at the end of the street, the one with benches outside and crowded with sticky-fingered children. Past the park where Gutter had mentioned, casually, in passing, that he was thinking of taking classes at the community college.

“You should,” Teddy had said.

“‘S not like I need another degree, or anything,” Gutter had said, vaguely. “Just - I dunno - thinking about it. Or maybe I’ll take fencing classes.”

“Do they offer fencing classes?” Teddy asked.

“Don’t think so. Maybe I’ll _make_ a fencing class,” Gutter said, and then jabbed into the space between Teddy’s ribs with a move that was _not_ a classic fencing maneuver, and they’d chased each other down the path laughing like children.

The whole place ached with the echo of him. It settled in the back of his throat, behind his eyes, clenched like the moments before Gutter came and gasped out _yours, I’m yours_.

They couldn’t keep doing this. _Teddy_ couldn’t keep doing this, living in this limbo, halfway to having a boyfriend and yet one wrong move away from having nothing at all. But if Gutter came back, and nothing changed, he’d - he’d let him. He’d keep doing this until Gutter left forever or it tore him apart, but he still wouldn’t be able to bring himself to ask for more than what Gutter could give.

He didn't know what that meant. He didn't know what that made him. It just marked him like a scar, aching and true.

When he finally made his way back to the apartment, it was nearly dark outside. He sat down at the kitchen table, considered making himself a cup of coffee.

He looked at his car keys, hanging by the door. Gutter had gotten him a parking pass for the building, registered his license plate and everything. The hooks the keys hung on were courtesy of Teddy after the third time he lost his keys from tossing them on Gutter’s disaster of a living room table. Half the clothes on the floor of the bedroom were his, and he only spent the _weekends_ here.

(And, well, if once or twice he’d ended up working remotely from the office in the downtown of Gutter’s new city, Gutter didn’t seem to notice or ask about Teddy being there for an extra day.)

For a long moment, Teddy seriously considered just - driving back. Gutter was coming back, so he didn’t have to arrange anything else. Just - leave, like Gutter did. Go to his own home. Take his car keys and leave the apartment keys - under the mat, or something. (Or just take them and let Gutter figure his own way into his apartment, he deserved it.) Ignore his texts the way Gutter had been ignoring his, all week.

Eventually, he got up from the table, and went to bed.

* * *

He woke up to Gutter in the kitchen, sitting casually across from an empty chair with a full cup of coffee, as though he’d never left. His hair was swept back, his eyes were bright.

“Did you know,” he commented, “that Alaska’s lovely this time of year?”

Teddy took a breath - took another breath - and then turned and said, “I’m going to take a shower,” and left the room.

The shower was long, his head a buzzing, frantic thing throughout it. He couldn’t hear any noise from the rest of the apartment, and he almost thought maybe he’d hallucinated it. Maybe he’d been sleepwalking. Maybe he’d wake up and Gutter will have left again, no indication either way - 

He walked out of the bathroom, hair wet and sleep pants back on, and Gutter was in the same place, still across from a cup of coffee. He could see the way Gutter’s eyes stuttered on his bare chest, drew back up to his eyes, flinched away.

All at once, the emotion sitting in his stomach resolved, coalesced, flared hot.

“You _left_ ,” Teddy snapped, and tried to feel satisfaction at the way Gutter flinched at that.

“Yeah,” Gutter said. “But let’s be real, you knew that about me.”

“You said you _wouldn’t_ ,” Teddy said. He pointedly stayed standing, even though it left him towering over Gutter. “You said you wouldn’t up and leave again - “

“And, I mean, I didn’t,” Gutter said. “I just - I get why you’re mad, I really do, but I didn’t leave forever? And I made you keys? I mean, you still had the apartment - “

“I don’t give a _fuck_ about the apartment, Gutter!” Teddy yelled, and finally, _finally_ , Gutter looked up at him.

“...You don’t?” Gutter asked.

“ _No_ ,” Teddy said, and finally sat down. He looked at the coffee.

Black, probably with sugar. Gutter never got up early enough to make him coffee unless he never bothered going to sleep in the first place, and yet, somehow, he knew how Teddy took his coffee. The _why_ of that, and the _how_ , he couldn’t - deal with, just now. So he didn’t drink the coffee.

“But you - I mean,” Gutter said. “You _stayed?_ You stayed in the apartment. I thought you - “ he broke off, as though expecting to be interrupted. When a brief silence stretched, he continued, “I thought you, you know, needed - to get away, or something. Just like me. Some time away from it all.”

“Gutter,” Teddy said, slowly, as though explaining to someone very thick, “I stayed here because I was waiting for _you_.”

He looked up at Gutter from across the table, and Gutter turned his coffee cup, met Teddy’s eyes, looked away. “Ah,” he said, finally, and no more. 

“Why - “ Teddy said, and then almost didn’t ask. 

If there was a moment to let this go, it was now. The tension between them had lulled, Gutter’s shoulders tight but a twist in his mouth that said he was moments away from finding the humor in this. More than a sliver of Teddy wanted to reach across the table, drag him in - god, he’d _missed_ him - and let this pass them by, until the next time Gutter ran away. Maybe it wouldn’t even be soon. Maybe Gutter’s roots, his friends, and his classes and his job would sink into him deeper, be enough to keep him here when Teddy wasn’t, and maybe Teddy would find it in himself to be content with that.

He had it in himself to be content with that.

And yet.

“Why’d you come back?” Teddy asked.

Gutter made a sound like Teddy had kicked him in the chest, like all the air left him at once. His eyes froze, unseeing, on the floor.

“Gutter,” Teddy insisted. “ _Why’d you come back_.”

“I - “ Gutter said, and looked up, lost, and then, all at once, surged out of his seat and leaned forward across the table. Their lips crashed together.

He - 

He smelled of coffee, and there was a fine tremble under his skin, like he’d been awake for too many hours and wondered too many things. He kissed frantic and harsh, like he was expecting a fight. Like he thought Teddy might push him away.

Just to be contrary, Teddy wound a hand into his hair. Gentled him back, just enough, to draw some pressure out of the kiss, and then leaned in and readjusted it, softened it. Planted a couple of soft, fluttering kisses on Gutter’s top lip, and felt him tremble harder. He let himself think, helpless, _I love you_.

“Gutter,” he said.

“I thought,” Gutter said. “I thought, well, so long as you were moving in anyways, might as well make you a copy of the keys, right?”

Teddy opened his eyes. 

Gutter was looking at him, eyes bright, both hands planted on the table. He was inches away from knocking over the coffee.

At first he thought, _that’s not an answer_. But then he thought of the locked front door, and the keys he'd been using all week that were hanging untouched on their hook, and Gutter sitting in his own kitchen this morning with his own worn set of keys on the table in front of him, and. He was an idiot.

He was an idiot, and he was in love with an idiot.

In one motion he stood up, bringing Gutter mostly with him by his hair, which Gutter went _shockingly_ pliant under. Half a second later he switched tacts, eyes going half-lidded, mouth twitching up - 

Teddy turned him by his shoulders, reached down to pick him up under his thighs, and lifted Gutter up just to _slam_ him against the wall, hard enough to knock his breath out, hard enough that his head knocked against it a little. If he was thinking of apologizing, Gutter immediately made it unnecessary by _moaning_ , low and genuine.

“The neighbors know exactly what we’re doing,” Teddy pointed out, leaning forward to press kisses down Gutter’s neck.

“Yeah, well,” Gutter hissed. He _squirmed_ in Teddy’s grasp, hips shifting as though testing Teddy’s grip. In response, Teddy slipped his hands up to be properly groping Gutter, and got a full-body shudder for his efforts. “They got an entire week’s break from it, they should be grateful.” His breathing suddenly slowed, and he said, “Uh, they _did_ get an entire week’s break from - “

“Oh, no,” Teddy said, just to make him squirm, because Gutter _deserved it_. The look on his face was priceless. “I’m sure they were endlessly bothered by the sound of me loudly, endlessly… vacuuming.”

Gutter burst out laughing. His body curled into Teddy’s, legs tightening. “You - you _vacuumed_?” 

“I did,” Teddy said in his ear. Experimentally, he removed one hand from Gutter’s ass to drag up his body; Gutter’s legs tightened in response, keeping him nicely settled around Teddy's waist.

“You only said you did the dishes. I _have_ a vacuum?” Gutter continued. “Since _when_? Where? Did it come with the - “

“ _Gutter_ ,” Teddy growled in his ear, driving his hips forward. His hands tightened. “ _Focus_.”

“Right,” Gutter gasped. “Focused. Focusing. Fuck the vacuum. Or, uh, forget the vacuum, fuck _me_ \- “ His chest arched as Teddy managed to work a hand underneath his shirt, stroking up his chest, raking a nail over a nipple.

Gutter removed his hands from around Teddy’s shoulders to drag his own shirt off, seemingly trusting in Teddy’s grip on him to keep him steady against the wall. He knocked an elbow into the key holder next to him, and they both looked over at it.

Teddy pressed forward into him, until his whole back was pressed against the wall, until he was being held up just by the force of Teddy’s chest against his. “Gutter,” he said, intense, and Gutter turned his head and Teddy kissed him. Deep, and long, and aching. When he pulled back, he gasped, “Gutter, I - “

“What do you think,” Gutter gasped, sudden, panicked, a little too loud. “of painting your key gold?”

Breathing hard, it took a second for Teddy to refocus. He looked at Gutter’s bright eyes and his kiss-swollen lips. He thought about the way Gutter was letting Teddy keep him here, wrapped in his arms and these walls. How Gutter was holding on, and making room.

“You know,” Gutter said. “So you can’t mistake it for - anything else.”

Teddy slid a hand up into Gutter’s hair.

And, yeah.

Yeah. Okay.

“I’d like that,” he murmured. Gutter relaxed, his breath fluttered out, and Teddy got to see him _smile_.

“Cool,” Gutter said, and kissed him again.

The morning went soft and hazy between them. Gutter came apart in his hands up against the wall, and then directed Teddy in a sex-drenched voice into laying back on the bed and bringing himself off. Talked him through how much he’d missed Teddy, how he’d fantasized in that tiny hotel room about him and his arms and ass and fuck, Teddy, you look - no, hold on, I wanna - 

Gutter got as far as putting his mouth on Teddy before he was jerking, coming, ears flooding with white noise. Gutter made the faintly disgusted noise that he _always_ made when he got it in his mouth, and leaned over the bed to grab a tissue and spit into it.

“Uhm,” Teddy said, thoughts fuzzy. “Sorry?”

“No, I, uh - eugh, really gets on your tongue - I definitely asked for that. Like, kind of literally.” Gutter slid up, set his head on Teddy’s chest and breathed out, slowly. “This, uh, we’re definitely doing more of this.” His head settled down, heavier. “Later.”

“Yeah,” Teddy breathed, amused. His eyes were already drifting shut. “‘Kay.”

* * *

A neighbor was pounding on the wall, which wasn’t fair, they hadn’t even made _that_ much noise this time. Or, anyways, they would definitely be making more later, no matter how much they complained.

“Put pants on,” a familiar voice said from outside the door, “and then I want my brothers to take me out for an apology lunch for being dense and making things difficult for everyone.”

Teddy’s eyes flickered open. The sunlight was just beginning to stream in the window, almost directly overhead - they’d slept for a few hours. And it wasn’t a neighbor pounding on the wall, it was - 

“Giddy?” Gutter said, drowsy, next to him. “How the hell’d she get here so fast?”

“It’s been a couple hours,” Teddy pointed out, muzzily. Absently, he leaned down and pressed a kiss into Gutter’s hair.

“Mm,” Gutter hummed. “Still, it’s not like I told her _when_ I was coming home - “

“Think she knows you better than you think,” Teddy said.

Giddy immediately proved his point by pounding on the bedroom door. “I know you’re awake, and I swear to god if you bang with me in the apartment I’m taking your swords and leaving.”

“Gross, Giddy,” Gutter slurred, loud enough to be heard through the door. “We’ll at least wait until you leave. Speaking of, could you leave _now?_ ”

“I drove all the way down here to check on you,” Giddy said, “the least you can do is buy me lunch first.”

“No one asked her to,” Gutter mumbled, but he didn’t really sound that displeased as he pulled himself out of bed and stretched. 

They got dressed and made their way out into the living room, settling around the couch despite Giddy’s previous insistence on lunch. Teddy, casually, ruffled Gutter’s hair on the way by, and Giddy caught his eye and _grinned_.

“Brothers, huh?” he said, settling down next to her on the couch.

“S’ what I said.” Giddy pulled her legs up under herself, looked at both of them. “Got a problem?”

Teddy opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Gutter broke in with, “No.” At both of their surprised glances, he raised his hands and clarified, “No problem, I mean! It’s - welcome to the family, I guess?” he directed at Teddy, smile crooked.

Teddy smiled back, and got to watch Gutter break eye contact, cough, and immediately continue with, “So, uh, there was this Middle Eastern place in Anchorage with the most _amazing_ kebabs, so I was thinking - “

“I know a place,” Teddy said, and grinned at Gutter’s surprise.

“You do?” He asked.

“He does,” Giddy confirmed. “Hell, maybe they’ll think you two are cute and give a whole free dessert this time. C’mon, let’s go.”

She led the way out of the apartment, the three of them spilling out onto the street and sunshine.

Halfway down the street, Gutter pressed closer to Teddy while telling some story about a crazy guy and some wild sculptures in Alaska. “Insane,” he said, “Ace should meet him. You know Ace, right?”

Between their bodies, their hands brushed.

“Yeah,” Teddy said. Gutter was beautiful on this street, shining like he was the centerpiece that had been missing. “Yeah, I met Ace.”

“Cool,” Gutter said, “Maybe she’ll start conscripting you for her crazy sculpting shit, I always end up dropping everything.”

Hidden from the rest of the street, two of Gutter’s fingers linked with Teddy’s, and stayed.

* * *

> It’s nothing like I thought it would be  
>  and closer to what I meant.  
>  _None of it is real, darling._  
>  I say it to you.
> 
> Maybe we will wake up singing.  
>  Maybe we will wake up to the silence  
>  Of shoes at the foot of the bed  
>  not going anywhere.

* * *

Epilogue:

_Teddy, 9:48 pm: When’s a good time to tell him my work has an office in his city?_

_Giddy. 9:52 pm: after you’ve had him fitted with a GPS tracker, probably._


End file.
